


Two Sisters

by ami_ven



Series: Rose Red [2]
Category: Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, Katie Crackernuts (Fairy Tale), Schneeweisschen und Rosenrot | Snow-white and Rose-red (Fairy Tale), Schneewittchen | Snow White (Fairy Tale)
Genre: Community: writerverse, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 02:01:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2292806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two runaway princesses, two troubled princes… and one happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Sisters

**Author's Note:**

> written for LJ community "writerverse" challenge "big bang"

When I was eighteen, and Snow White only fifteen, the king chose to marry again. The woman who was to be his new queen was my own mother, and it was a sign of the rift between us that I could only be suspicious of her motives.

The only bright spot on their wedding day, as I was stuffed into an impractical but ‘highly fashionable’ gown, was Snow White, squeezing my hand until the vows had been said, and then whispering, “Oh, Rose, now we are sisters!”

So, I at least had to thank Mother for that.

I do believe the king truly loved her, to some degree, and that he meant well in wanting a mother for his daughter. Snow White and I shared everything else as we grew— why not a mother, as well? And, Mother must have had _some_ fondness for His Majesty, for she did not have to do near as much as she did to convince the court of their love.

She did not, however, love Snow White.

I was under no illusions that Mother loved me, though I was the only child of her womb. She had married Father for his nobility, which had gotten her to court, and she had hopes that I would marry even higher. But I was too much my father’s daughter, and I did not vie for the young noblemen’s affections like the other young women.

But even used to her disappointment in me, I could see that Mother was unusually cold with Snow White. The king, of course, treated me with as much affection as he always had, calling me ‘daughter’ with the same delight with which Snow White called me ‘sister’. And for all my training, I was only a girl who missed her father, and perhaps I could be forgiven for not completely suspecting the only living family I had left.

She had a plan, my mother. A plan she had intended me to be part of, until she realized that my loyalty was only to Snow White. I had no way of knowing just how horrible her plan would be, how far she would go to achieve her goals.

Snow White loved flowers, and we would often leave the castle to go pick the ones that grew wild in the Royal Forest. Generally, a guard or two would accompany us, but this day, Mother sent the royal huntsman with us. I knew all the guards, from my training with them, but this man was practically a stranger.

The daffodils and columbine were in bloom, and Snow White had an armful within minutes, which she gave to me so that she could run and gather another. I wrapped my handkerchief around the stalks, and turned to ask the huntsman if he had a scrap of leather thong— which was what saved our lives.

Sunlight flashed on his sword, but I drew my dagger, darting out of his reach. I threw the flowers at his face, then darted back in, closing my hand around his sword hilt and _twisting_. That move didn’t always work, but the huntsman had not been expecting a princess to fight back— he tried to grab it back, but I slashed, catching his hip where his leather jerkin did not cover. I added a kick to his knee for good measure and he went down, hard.

I pointed the sword at his throat. “Did you mean to kill me, or Princess Snow White?” I demanded.

He glared, and I inched the sword closer. “Both,” he grunted.

“On whose orders?” The huntsman did not reply, and I pressed the blade to his neck. “ _Whose_?”

“The queen’s,” he breathed.

I took a step back, sword still pointed. My mother… the trouble was, I had no trouble believing it.

“Rose?” said Snow White’s voice, from behind me.

I didn’t turn. “Go,” I growled, to the huntsman. It wasn’t far to the castle, but with that knee and the slow bleed of his wound, he wouldn’t be able to chase after us. “Tell Her Majesty anything you like, but be warned— I will let no harm come to my sister.”

Slowly, he got to his feet, and tossed his scabbard on the ground between us. I held my sword up until he was out of sight, then sheathed the sword and tied the scabbard to my gown’s sash and whirled to grab Snow White’s hand.

“We have to go,” I told her. “Snow, do you understand? We have to leave, and… and we may not come back for a very long time.”

She looked back at me with wide eyes. “Rose…your mother.”

I put my hands on her shoulder. “We have to go, Snow White.”

She took my hand again, and nodded. “All right.”

The sun was high when we left the shadow of our home, and we continued on until after it had gotten dark. We stopped for rest as seldom as Snow White could tolerate. We stayed in the woods— I knew they would lead to the neighboring kingdom, currently out of favor with our king, but at peace— except for a brief stop to trade our few coins for less ornate gowns.

As dawn came, even I knew we needed to stop.

“Oh, look at that, Rose Red!” said Snow White, still holding tight to my hand.

We had come out of the woods in a clearing, glowing with morning sunlight. At its center was small, thatched-roof cottage, surrounded by wildflowers. I might have thought it was some sort of mirage, until the front door opened, and a gaggle of laughing children tumbled out.

There were seven of them, we learned, ages nine to two (and a half). Their mother, Anna, was a woodcutter, recently widowed. She didn’t have much, but she was glad to share all that she had with two strange and slightly ragged girls.

Snow White, of course, was immediately enamored of the children, and let them lead her into the patch of wildflowers, all of them giggling madly.

“I won’t ask where you came from,” said Anna, in what I would learn was her usual, matter-of-fact way. “But I will ask— and you be honest, miss— are you a danger to my young ones?”

“No, ma’am,” I answered her, as honestly as I could. “And if I am wrong, I would protect them as I would my sister.”

Anna smiled. “Then you are welcome to stay.”

It did not seem right, when she had so little, but Anna had a solution to that. She and her husband had been half-way through building a new, larger cottage when he had died, and it was too big a job for her alone, while she had to watch the children. Snow White eagerly agreed to watch the children, while Anna and I worked, and I was amazed at how content we had become. Snow White still missed her father, but she adored the children, and kept a brave face for them.

One day, Anna passed me a hammer and said, “I heard a tale yesterday, in the city. About the neighboring kingdom, and the king who mourns his two daughters, killed in an accident in the forest.”

“I sorrow for his sorrow,” I said, the traditional phrase.

“Indeed,” said Anna, dryly. “I also hear tell that his queen is with child. The new heir.”

I froze, then forced myself to continue working. “May they be healthy and wise,” I said, which was also traditional.

Anna said no more, and we worked in silence.

When the larger house was complete, the children joyously moved in, spreading wildflowers in every corner as Anna, Snow White and I carried furniture across the clearing. Anna insisted that Snow White and I move into the smaller cottage, and we were happy once again.

Without so many children in it, the cottage needed a few repairs, so I made them my next project. I was up on the roof, tacking down some loose thatching, when I heard shouting from the trees.

“Rose Red! Rose Red!” called the children’s voices. Claire, the second-youngest, came crashing into my knees as soon as I slid to the ground. 

“Wolf, Rosie!” she sobbed.

I detached her, gently. “Get inside the house and stay there, darling,” I told her.

Sword in hand, I raced into the trees. Snow White held a large branch, trembling as she waved it at three large wolves. Their attention snapped to me, and I slid sideways, until I was between them. 

“Rose,” breathed Snow White.

“Take the children back to the house,” I said. “I can handle them.”

“Come along children.” I could hear the reluctance in her voice, but she knew I wanted the children safe.

The wolves snapped their teeth, advancing on me. I swung my sword, a warning parry, and the wolf on the far right lunged at me. His claws sliced my skirt, but I whirled away from him, landing a glancing blow to his hindquarters as he went past. But I could not watch three targets at once, and the other two wolves made their moves.

And suddenly, the fight was two against three. A man had emerged from the woods, wearing a fringed leather coat, with a wild beard and ragged hair. He struck at another of the wolves with a sword much larger than mine, and the creatures seemed to decide they would rather not take on two well-armed humans.

“Thank you,” I said, re-sheathing my sword.

“You… are welcome,” he said, as though he was unused to the phrase.

“Oh, but you’re hurt!”

We both whirled, but it was only Snow White, half-hiding behind a tree.

“I told you to stay in the house,” I said, more harshly than I usually was with her.

“You said to take the children to the house,” she countered. “And you’re hurt. Both of you.”

“I… should be going,” said the man. He had one hand over his upper arm, and I could see a trickle of blood slide between his fingers. “Ladies…”

“Oh, no you don’t!” said Snow White. “You’re injured, sir, and you shall be patched up before we allow you back into the dark forest wilds.”

“You really should take care of that wound,” I said. “And what do we call you?”

The man hesitated. “Bear,” he said, at last.

Bear allowed us to lead him back to the cottage, where the children were all at the windows. I shooed them to the other room for a nap, while Snow White fetched some bandages. 

“You were very brave,” she said.

“You’re very good with that sword,” I added. I wetted a cloth from the pump and pressed it unceremoniously to the cut on his arm. He hissed against the pain, but did not so much as twitch. Once it was clean, I let Snow White bandage it, and sat across the kitchen table from them. “It is nearly dark. You should stay the night.”

“I could not…” Bear began, but I snorted.

“Where would you go? You cannot have a place to go, looking like that.”

Finally, he cracked a smile— small, but true. “I do not,” he admitted. “I earn my way as I go.”

“Then stay with us,” said Snow White. “There are tasks to be done here.”

“Seven children with only my sister to watch over them, most days,” I added. I could sense that Bear had a protective nature, as I myself did— why else would a stranger risk his life to aid me with the wolves?— and I could see the moment he hesitated.

“Seven?” he asked.

“Hellions, all of them,” I said, because I could see the children peering around the doorframe.

“I suppose I could stay… for a time,” he said, slowly.

Snow White made him a pallet by the floor— there was only a single bed left, which she and I shared. After breakfast, he left, but returned at nightfall with a brace of rabbits, which Anna and Snow White roasted with a few wild vegetables. He did the same the next day, and the next, always returning.

After a few months, our little house was as fit as I could make it.

“It will be winter soon,” said Anna, as we watched Snow White and the children play a dancing game. “We have all worked so hard, but I fear…”

“So do I,” I said softly. “Even with Bear’s hunting, it may not be enough. I had thought to seek a job, in the city.”

“I should discourage you,” she said. “But the children… I heard of a job, when I was delivering wood to the palace. The prince— oh, I’ve forgotten, you don’t know— Prince James, the crown prince, has been ill for some time. There’s some sort of mystery, don’t ask me what, but the queen has put out word for someone to watch him nights, in case there is some sort of… fowl play, perhaps.”

“Fowl play?” I repeated. “And they would accept a woman for the task?”

Anna nodded. “I am ashamed to say I asked, thinking of you. I know you would be away from Snow White, but I could not bear—”

“No, you _must_ stay with the children,” I said. “I shall take the job.”

Snow White seemed upset when I prepared to leave, right after Bear had done. I had taken two precautions the night before— one, asking Bear to stay closer to our home, in case anything happened, and the other, bribing Charlie, the second-oldest of Anna’s children, to tell my sister all of his best jokes so she wouldn’t miss me. It would be well worth going without my share of desert, even if it _was_ one of Snow White’s delicious apple pies.

I walked the few miles out of the world, into the capital city, shiny and new around the palace. 

“My name is Rose Red,” I said, to the servant at the side door. “I am told there is an open position.”

He eyed the sword, secure on my hip, and waved me in. “This way, miss.”

I was shown down a long hall, to an audience chamber. It was smaller than the one used by Snow White’s father, but more ornate— the woodcarvers of this kingdom were unparalleled. A single figure sat in a carved wooden thrown, and I sank into a deep curtsy.

“Your Majesty.”

The queen looked pale, though someone had done an admirable job of applying pigments to make her seem less so. She seemed frail, as well, much as I remembered Snow White’s mother looking, just before…

“Welcome, child,” she said, when I had been announced, her voice soft. “You will forgive my bluntness, but I have little time.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“My son is ill,” she said. “The doctors have seen him, often. They find none of the symptoms that they find in my own person. And it frightens me, that he should have a different illness from my own, for my physicians have found treatments that ease my pain, but dear James shows no improvements, no matter what is done. And with the death of his brother, Robert…”

“Your Majesty?” I asked. “What would you have me do?”

“Watch him,” the queen said. “Each morning finds him exhausted, as though he has not been asleep the entire night.”

“Do you suspect that someone is acting against him, Your Majesty? Or that His Highness is acting against himself?”

She sighed. “I just do not know. You are not the first to take this job, child. But I will not give up hope. I am asking this not as a queen, but as a mother. I simply cannot bear to lose my Jamie, not after his brother…”

The queen took a deep breath, then continued, “If you will do this, you will answer only to me. You may ignore instructions from anyone else, _including_ my son.”

I nodded. “I understand, Your Majesty. If it pleases, I can begin tonight.”

“Excellent,” said the queen, with a smile.

I was offered room in the servants’ wing, but I politely declined. It would be a long walk to the castle and back every day, but I would not give up my time with Snow White and Anna’s family. Besides, I had always gotten along with little sleep.

A different servant showed me to the anti-chamber of the prince’s room. It was paneled in more intricately-carved wood, and contained the only entrance into the prince’s bedroom. I was permitted to search both, while the servant waited, then I took position in the outer room.

The prince stopped short when he saw me. He was about my age, thin and dark-haired, dressed more simply than any of the princes who had ever visited Snow White’s father, the king. He sighed. “Another watcher?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” I said. “I am called Rose Red.”

His gaze went straight to my hair, fading back to deep copper as the winter came, as most people’s did when I said my name. I continued to smile, pleasant but neutral, until he sighed again.

“I don’t know what Mother told you, but I’m fine. I… I often do not sleep well, that is all. You will be wasting your time.”

“All the same, Your Highness,” I said, with the same smile. “Your mother pays well, and I have those who depend upon me.”

“I see,” he said. “Then, good night.”

Prince James walked into his room without another word, closing the door behind him. I watched it for a moment, then crossed to a large carved-wooden chair and sat. I had brought some socks that needed darning, in my battered leather satchel, and brought them out, working steadily through them. I took breaks to pace the room, flexing stiff fingers. I heard nothing from the prince’s room, so I continued my work.

But, as the first light of dawn crept through the window, and I began to hear the sounds of the prince stirring, I had the sudden instinct the feign sleep. I let the sock and darning egg slide to the floor and slumped in my seat, mussing my hair a bit as I went. When the prince’s door creaked open, I sat up, quickly.

“Your Highness!” I said, as though in surprise.

“Good morning, Rose Red,” he said.

I walked back to the cottage, where Snow White had breakfast waiting. Bear ate with us, then departed, and I caught a few hours of sleep.

As night fell, I returned to the castle, where I was once again shown to the prince’s chambers. Again, he bid me good night, and retired for the night. Again, I sat up during the night— this time with a book from the carved-wooden shelves— only to feign sleep when he entered the next morning. At dawn, I walked home again, to share breakfast with Snow White and Bear. 

When I had sat three nights in the prince’s outer room, he asked, on the next, when I arrived, “Who, may I ask, waits for you at home?”

He seemed genuinely interested, so I told him about my sister, and the children, in the barest of details. For the first time, Prince James smiled at me when he bid me goodnight. 

On the next night, he inquired after my family’s health, and I said, “Your Highness, if you will allow me… may I ask about the brother your mother mentioned.”

“Oh,” he said softly. I began to apologize, but he waved me quiet. “No, no. My younger brother, Albert. He was killed, little more than a year ago.”

There was something odd about his voice as he said it, but he forced a smile, and continued. “Perhaps I am not yet over his loss. Good night, Rose Red.”

On the sixth night, Prince James the odd something was more pronounced, but I pretended not to notice. This time, he offered me a drink, from a bottle on his shelf. I accepted, but was careful only to _seem_ to drink it— I did not take spirits, as a rule, but this one smelled peculiar, even to me. When the prince turned to replace the bottle on the shelf, I tipped my cupful into a vase of cut flowers.

I yawned widely when he turned back around, and he not-so-subtly feigned one, as well.

“Good night, Rose Red.”

Instead of taking out my mending, I crumpled immediately into my chair, waiting, and sure enough, Prince James came back out of his room only a moment later, changed from his brightly-colored evening tunic to a buff-colored homespun, with a dark cloak over it. He paused, watching to see if I would stir, then crossed the room and left.

I followed, my worn boots making no sound on the marble floor. The prince scurried down two corridors to a small side door, which he slipped through into the night. The forest grew against the castle there, and it was less than child’s play to follow the prince this way, for all the noise he made clattering through the undergrowth.

He must not have been as hopeless as I had thought, however, because after a time he stopped, creeping into position behind a large oak tree. We waited, for quite a long time, long enough for the prince to grow restless and for the moon to arch high above us. Then, two figures emerged from the trees, both cloaked and hunched defensively. I kept my distance, so as not to be seen by either of them or Prince James, and I could not make out their shapes in any detail. I could hear their voices only dimly, enough to hear one male and one female, but I dared not move closer.

They gestured at each other, an argument, then came to an agreement. The female figure passed something, small enough to hold in a single hand, to the male, and both turned, walking away in opposite directions.

After a moment, the prince turned as well, heading back to the castle. I knew he must find me in his outer chamber when he returned and quickened my pace, easily maneuvering around him to reach the castle first. Reaching his rooms, I collapsed back into the wooden chair, tucking my muddy boots beneath my skirts, and closed my eyes.

The door opened slowly, and the prince tiptoed back to his room, and closed the door.

“Good morning, Rose Red,” he said, the following morning, looking not just tired, but weary.

“Did you sleep well, Your Highness?” I asked.

He took a deep breath. “No,” he said, after a moment, and did not elaborate any further.

I replayed the meeting we had witnessed on my walk back home— Who were those people? Why did Prince James watch them? How did he know they would be there?— but managed a smile for Snow White when I arrived.

“Oh, Rose Red,” she said, as Bear disappeared into the woods. “I simply must tell you or I will burst! You won’t be angry with me, will you?”

“And what will I not be angry for?” I asked, tiredly.

“I…” she said, then blurted, “I believe I may be in love with Bear.”

I blinked, simply watching her for a long moment. Snow White had a large heart. She loved everyone, in some way, as easy with her affections as the children she cared for. But even as her ladies-in-waiting had fawned over various young lords, she never had. Perhaps she really _did_ love him.

“You _are_ angry,” she said, pouting. “I will not rush things, Rose Red, you know I would not. You must trust him, if you allow him to stay the night while you are gone, so you cannot disprove _that_ much. And I would have him court me, if he would have me. But I ponder if he is not already? He does so much for me here, smiles when I am near, though he is _always_ so proper, he’s not so much as _touched_ me—”

“I am not angry, sister,” I say, to stem the tide of words. I do not often call Snow White ‘sister’, not half so often as she uses the word to address me, and always with affection, so she will know I speak true. “I do trust Bear, and I… be careful, please? Just as he does not truly know who you are, sister, _you_ do not truly know him. Or perhaps, his courting my simply be kindness.”

“I will wait until he speaks his heart,” she promised. “But I will enjoy his attentions.”

I smiled. “As well you should.”

Prince James still seemed tired when I arrived at the castle that night, but though I stayed awake the entire night, he did not leave his rooms. Night after night, there was no movement, until seven nights and mornings later, he again offered me a drink. Again, I disposed of its contents and followed the prince to the same clearing, where the same two figures exchanged packages this time.

And again the following morning, the prince greeted me as though he had not left his rooms.

For three identical cycles of six days, the same thing happened. Five nights, the prince would sleep, undisturbed, but on the sixth, he would sneak out of the castle to spy on the meetings of the two cloaked figures.

On the morning after the following fifth night, before the sixth when another meeting would take place, I waited until Snow White had taken the dirty breakfast dishes to the washtub, to lean across the table.

“Bear,” I said, softly. “Do you know of Prince James?”

He froze, then seemed to force himself to appear relaxed. “He is the crown prince,” Bear said, also whispering. “Is he…ill?”

“No,” I said. He was _feigning_ illness, but I had already determined he was entirely healthy. “But perhaps you have heard rumors…?”

Bear shook his head, almost too quickly. “No, I am sorry. I… I know nothing about Prince James.”

He rose suddenly, nodded to Snow White as she reappeared, and left.

“Rose Red?” she asked me, hesitant.

I managed a smile. “He said he needed an early start,” I told her.

Three days later, Snow White pulled me aside as soon as Bear had left. “Oh, Rose Red,” she said. She explained that, on the previous day, when Anna had not left to gather wood, Snow White had followed Bear as he left the cottage, deep into the trees. There he met with a cloaked man, who seemed to have upsetting news. The man then left, in the direction of the castle, and Bear continued on, farther than Snow White dared go. She had returned home, but when Bear had also returned, he mentioned no meeting, even when Snow White asked about his day.

I wondered if this cloaked man was the same whose meetings Prince James spied upon, and warned my sister to be careful, though I did not share my suspicions. 

My mind was near-to-bursting with questions when next I followed Prince James out of the castle. This was perhaps the reason I almost did not catch in time that he was prepared to do more than watch, until he put his hand firmly to the hilt of his sword and began walking, out in the open, toward the two cloaked figures.

I darted forward, keeping to the shadow of the trees, in parallel to him. A large branch cracked under his feet, and both strangers looked up. I threw my own cloak hood over my hair and reached out, catching the prince around the middle and heaving him back behind a large oak as the man and woman raced from the clearing, in opposite directions.

“Unhand me!” the prince snarled, then frowned. “Rose Red?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” I stood and offered him a hand.

“But I…” he trailed off, perhaps unwilling to say aloud that he’d been trying to drug me.

“You did not,” I said. 

“But you never _said_ anything,” Prince James protested.

“Your mother hired me to ensure your safety, Your Highness. I could not, unless I knew the entire story.”

He paused, regarding me. “I suppose I might as well tell you, then.”

We returned to the castle, where Prince James paced the garden outside the Royal Wing. He explained that every six days, his mother’s chief advisor, Lord Morven, disappeared from the palace. He had begun to follow him, about four months earlier, to watch him meet with a cloaked woman. She gave Lord Morven something, each time, but Prince James had never been able to find out what it was.

“I do not believe my brother is dead,” he said, suddenly. “His disappearance was… to obvious, without evidence. He would _not_ run away, not without telling me.”

I put my hand on his wrist, comforting, and asked, “Your Highness, might Lord Morven also leave the castle during the day?”

“He has a great deal of business to…” he began, then frowned. “I cannot believe I did not consider that.”

“Your Highness,” I said. “I was hired by your mother, but I am also an elder sibling. If there is anything I can do to help you find the truth about your brother…”

He smiled. “Thank you, Rose Red.”

Suddenly, there was a clatter from the road. The horse pulling Anna’s wood cart whinnied to a stop beside the garden wall, with her oldest three children riding.

“Rose Red, Rose Red!” they cried. 

I raced out to them, the prince on my heels. “What is the matter?”

They talked over one another, but I could make out Snow White’s name . “Your Highness…”

He was already climbing into the cart. “Shall I drive?”

I raced the horse back to our cottage, where the rest of the children immediately surrounded us. They led us inside, where Anna leaned over the bed— and Snow White lay, motionless.

“What happened?” I demanded.

She had been poisoned, the children said. By an evil witch. Bear had run after the witch, but had not returned.

“Poisoned?” repeated Prince James.

Anna nodded. “But I do not know what kind. And without knowing, there can be no cure.”

There was a sudden commotion from outside. I entered the cottage’s main room to see Bear come in, pushing a cloaked woman before him. Her hands were bound, and he immediately tied her to one of our wooden kitchen chairs.

“Your witch,” he growled, and I froze.

“Mother.”

She glared at me. “You could have been queen,” she spat.

“Rose Red—” Prince James had been just behind me and he, too, froze. “Bertie!”

Bear’s eyes widened behind his ragged fringe of hair. “No, no, I’m—”

“Albert, my god,” said the prince, “you’re alive.”

He took a step forward, but Bear held up both hands, looking frightened. “No, don’t! Don’t come near me! You’ll get sick like mother!”

Prince James frowned. “Mother?” he repeated. 

“Morven… he said I was making her sick. That she’s been getting better since I left.”

“Bertie,” said Prince James. “Mother is still sick. Bertie, she thinks you are _dead_.”

Bear— no, _Prince Albert_ — took a shuddering breath. “She had to, James. I was making her sick.”

“Morven was meeting you.” It took me a moment to realize that _I_ had spoken. I gestured at my mother. “She has been giving Lord Morven the poisons to make Her Majesty sick. Is that not true, Mother?”

My mother glared at me, more furiously than before. “I bore you, child,” she spat. “I raised you. I would have put you on the throne, if not for your ridiculous devotion to that silly girl. And then I reconsidered. Why should I waste my time with you? Morven knew my ambitions. With my herbs, he would… help his queen waste away, appointing him regent to her idiot son while he was under age. As I would do to your stepfather, then his sweet, naïve daughter. Morven would move on to the new young king. Leaving Morven as king and I as his queen, with _two_ kingdoms to rule.”

I could feel myself shaking with fury, and I had my sword in my hand, pointed at my mother. “What did you use to poison Snow White?”

“Rose Red—” she began.

“What poison?” I snarled. “I will not ask again.”

Once she had identified the poison, Anna was able to find an antidote, and in moments, Snow White was awake, pale and weak, but clinging tightly to Bear— Prince Albert’s— hand.

After that, things happened rather fast. I accompanied Prince James back to the castle, where he told his mother everything and she had thrown Morven in the dungeon. The queen sent a unit of guards with Snow White and I to transport Mother back to our own kingdom, where she met a similar fate.

Snow White was reunited with her father, who hugged her for a long, long moment. I watched, happy at their happiness, until he released her, briefly, to hug me as well. It seemed the whole kingdom celebrated our return, and even I was caught up in the joy.

Except…

Barely a month after we had returned home, a royal entourage rode into our courtyard, Prince James and Prince Albert at its head.

Snow White raced out to meet them, throwing herself into Albert’s arms almost before he had dismounted. He nodded to me as she pulled him back toward the castle, where her father stood on the grand steps.

James slid from his saddle. “Good morning, Rose Red,” he said.

I smiled. “Your Highness.”

“I should be calling _you_ that,” he replied. “You’re a princess.”

“Step-princess,” I corrected, still smiling.

“Mother is fully recovered,” said James. “The herbs we took from your mother allowed our doctors to cure her of the poisons that Moven used on her.”

“I am glad.”

He paused, resting a hand on my arm. “Rose Red,” he said, voice low. “I would have accompanied my brother— he is planning to ask for your sister’s hand, if he has not already done so— but I… I cannot begin to describe my disappointment when I awoke the first morning after you left, and found my outer chamber empty.”

I caught his hand. “I expect to be properly courted, Your Highness.”

James grinned. “You deserve no less.”

Snow White and Albert were married the next spring. Both were as happy as it was possible for people to be, beaming throughout the entire ceremony. I stood at my sister’s side, who was also attended by Anna and all of her children. The king tried to offer Anna a position in our kingdom, but James and Albert’s mother had beaten him to it— she had fallen in love with their Royal Woodcarver, who loved each of her children as his own, and they were married in the fall.

James was true to his word about courting me, and if I had not already loved him, his methods in that would have sealed my fate— we went riding, practiced swords and archery, read books by the dozens. Which we continued to do long after we were married.

And, do you know, we really did live happily ever after.

THE END


End file.
